A Gift for Mom! 🤍

I had been trying to wear my pre-pregnancy shorts for the last two weeks. And for the last few weeks I had been tugging and pulling, trying to get them up over my booty and sinched shut. And no matter how hard I tried, it still just wasn’t happening.

“I promised myself I would have lost the baby weight by now. I have to be able to fit into these shorts this summer,” I told myself.
 
I glanced inside my shorts and there it was; that lonely single digit number on the tag was staring me down. Again. But after two weeks of painfully putting on my too-small of shorts, I finally decided enough was enough.
 
 
And I bought a pair of shorts that were two sizes up.
 
A pair of shorts that were in the double digits.
 
And when I got home and effortlessly put that pair of shorts on, here’s what I found out.
 
The number on the tag of my shorts did not make me any less of a mom. In fact, I could now get down on the floor easier to do puzzles, and play Barbies, and wrestle with my kids and my butt crack wasn’t hanging out (major mom win).
 
The number on the tag of my shorts did not make me any less of a wife. My husband has never once mentioned or looked at the size of my shorts. He still smacks my rear when I walk past him in the hall because whether or not my pant size has one or two numbers, he still thinks I’m a hot mama.
 
The number on the inside of my shorts doesn’t make me any less comfortable. For the record, I can now comfortably take a picture without feeling the need to suck in and eat a cupcake without fear that the button on my waste line might pop off. My shorts actually fit. And it’s glorious.
 
The number on the tag of my shorts doesn’t make me any less beautiful. As it turns out, the bigger sized shorts actually keep the extra parts of me that weren’t there before all tucked in and smoothed out, making me much more comfortable when trying to put together an outfit. I feel pretty in them!
 
And lastly, the number on the tag of my shorts doesn’t make me any less of a woman. At the end of the day, my body, this temporary home for my children, is an absolute miracle. And if bringing my kids into this world means sizing my pants up to the double digits for a season, then size me up girl friend. I’ll take those double digit shorts any day.
 
You will also like: But Mommy, You Were Too Busy
So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Lauren Eberspacher

I'm Lauren and I'm a work-in-progress farmer's wife, coffee addict, follower of Jesus and a recovering perfectionist. When I don't have my three kids attached at my hip, you can find me bringing meals into the fields, dancing in my kitchen, making our house a home, and chatting over a piece of pie with my girl friends. I'm doing my best to live my life intentionally seeking all that God has for me and my family. Follow me at: www.fromblacktoptodirtroad.com From Blacktop to Dirt Road on Facebook laurenspach on Instagram

Helping My Son Through Bullying Is Healing Something In Me Too

In: Kids
Family sitting on porch

Bedtime is when my kids tend to open up the most. The lights are low, the day is winding down, and their guard finally comes down with it. One night, my son told me he had been having a really hard time at school. Some boys had been so relentless that he left the cafeteria before finishing his breakfast, deciding it was better to go hungry than face more teasing. Because he’s such a kind boy with a big heart for others, seeing him face that kind of cruelty made my heart ache even more. It wasn’t the first time...

Keep Reading

Robotics Kids Are Building More than You Can See

In: Kids
Robotics kid watching competition

These robotics kids are going to shape our future. I think this every time I watch an elementary, middle school, or high school competition. My thoughts go back many years to when my middle child, who was six at the time, went with my husband to the high school robotics shop. They were only stopping in briefly to pick up some engineering kits, but my child quickly became captivated by what the “big kids” were doing. He stood quietly watching until one student walked over and asked if he would like to see what they were working on. My son,...

Keep Reading

Foster Care Kids Are Worth Fighting for

In: Kids
Hand holding young child's hand

Sometimes foster care looks like bringing a child from a hard place into your home. Sometimes it looks like sitting at a ball field with a former foster love’s mom and being her village. He’s the one who has brought me to my knees more times than my own children. He’s the one I lie awake at night thinking about. He’s the one I beg the father to protect. He’s the one who makes me want to get in the trenches over and over again. It’s our Bubba. So much of the story is not mine to tell, but the...

Keep Reading

We Aren’t Holding Her Back—We’re Giving Her More Time

In: Kids
Child writing on preschool paper

When we decided to give our preschooler another year before kindergarten, I thought the hardest part would be explaining it to other people. I was wrong. The hardest part was the afternoon her teacher asked to talk. In that split second in the pick-up line, my heart sank. I assumed the worst. I braced myself for a conversation about behavior, about something we had somehow missed, about whether her strong personality was causing problems. Instead, it became the moment that confirmed what we already knew. We were not holding her back. We were giving her time. Our daughter is bright....

Keep Reading

A Life Lived Differently Is Not a Life Less Lived

In: Kids
Little boy running in field

My life changed on that beautiful autumn day. The thing is, nothing really happened. Not really. My life kind of went on as usual. A fly on the wall might even say it was a great day. I brought my 3-year-old son to an animal farm for a Halloween event. He was quirky as usual and a bit ornery that day. Aloof. “Come feed the baby animals,” I pleaded. No, thank you. Crowds of excited children? Absolutely not. Buckets of candy? You can keep them. My heart ached watching my beautiful, blonde-haired boy wander into a field alone, away from...

Keep Reading

Enjoy the Ride, Kid

In: Kids
Two people running up from the water at the beach

Last night I watched an episode of Shrinking. If you haven’t jumped into the series yet, it’s one of those that hits the heart hard- at least for me. The episode centered on the birth of a baby, while one of the characters grappled with the closing years of life. Spoiler alert: as the elder of the group cradled this new life in his arms, bridging generations across the hospital room, the moment of realization of how fast life goes hit like a ton of bricks. “Enjoy the ride, kid.” The final words of this episode are sitting with me,...

Keep Reading

Mommy, Will You Play With Me?

In: Kids, Motherhood
Boy sitting in middle of toys smiling

With four kids at three different schools, our days are full. Between sports practices, music lessons, clubs, rehearsals, games, meets, and playdates, it feels like we’re constantly heading somewhere. I love that my children are involved in activities, but occasionally, it’s nice to have some downtime. When I get a text or email that a practice has been canceled, it’s usually a huge relief. Last week, after-school sports were cancelled due to heavy rain. When I picked up my youngest son from school, I told him we’d be going straight home for the rest of the afternoon. He looked surprised....

Keep Reading

Could We Take a Page from the ’80s and Stop Overparenting?

In: Kids, Motherhood

I have a confession: Yesterday I let my 11-year-old play with fire. Like literally. We live in the country, there is still wet snow on the ground, and he’s done it with his dad at least 20 times. But yesterday was the fifth consecutive day of no school, and probably the twentieth consecutive day of him asking to have a small fire without dad. Part of me did it out of laziness. Part of me did it out of selfishness. And part of me did it out of nostalgia. Here’s the thing—when I was 11, I was already babysitting (like...

Keep Reading

A Big Brother Is His Little Sister’s First Friend

In: Kids
Big brother and little sister smiling at each other

He doesn’t remember the day she came home.But she has never known a world without him. From the beginning, he was there first. The first to reach for her hand. The first to explain the rules. The first to decide what was fair and what absolutely was not. He didn’t know he was being assigned a role. He just stepped into it. Big brother. She followed him everywhere. Into rooms she technically wasn’t invited into. Into games she didn’t fully understand. Into stories she insisted on hearing again and again. She wanted to do what he did, say what he...

Keep Reading

7 Is the Bridge Between Little and Big Kid

In: Kids
Girl sitting in front of dollhouse

I was in the middle of the post-holiday clean-up chaos when something hit me. My oldest daughter is seven, and while it feels like an age that doesn’t get talked about much, it really is turning out to be such a sweet spot. It hit me as we were redesigning her room. A change that occurred when she broke my mama-heart a few weeks prior by saying she didn’t think she wanted a princess room anymore. While everything in me wanted to try to convince her to keep it, stay small and sweet just a little longer, I knew I...

Keep Reading